Love Her Madly
by Aubrey Enox
Summary: Drabble. Again, GL, Olivia & Natalia are property of P&G. It's from Olivia's perspective, second try at this whole femslash thing.
1. Love Her Madly

Love Her Madly

I have this weird thing with music lyrics or song titles being the name of things, like in Degrassi so the title is from The Doors' "Love Her Madly"

Fine, she said no to moving back in, I expected that, I don't _like_ it but I can live with it for now. Well, technically it wasn't no so much as she's dragging her feet and I think they're also getting cold and will ultimately grow into roots and nothing will come from this, despite the way she said she loves me…Her eyes were so deep, that smile I love creeping across her lips and warming me as I moved closer and she said "I love you" I turned into a puddle of love struck goo.

I'm walking on egg shells with her. The world is getting scary to her, too real, too raw and even though he's a religious official, I want to ring Father Ray's neck. I knew what I was getting into and it's breaking my heart to know that she's still so conflicted even though we both agreed that taking it slow was the best way to go. I don't want to say or do something that she's not ready for, even though I'm _suffering_ through the simple things. I'm grateful for them, the holding hands, the eye contact, the hugs but I just want to kiss her, I want to give her a kiss that tells her everything she needs to know, everything to make up for when words fail. I want to pull her towards me the way I did when I was trying to make a point about how people saw our relationship. I'm embarassed to think that I lost a bit of that edge the moment I said I was in love with her, but let's face it, saying I'm in love with you at the grave of a man you both loved is _quite_ edgy. I want to dive in and just love her and watch her putter around the house doing laundry or cooking or playing with Emma. I love watching her folding laundry. I know, it's stupid but it's the way she lovingly folds everything like she's so happy to have a place to sit and fold laundry, something that's hers. She's so set on the task she doesn't notice me staring at her, then again, maybe she does and she likes knowing that I don't see anything else in the room but her. I like taking the things she just folded and unfolding them because it gives me something to do with my hands and I love how she squints her eyes at me, chastising me for ruining her folding mojo but she never gets mad, she just takes whatever it is and re-folds it, watching me out of the corner of her eye. I do it because I don't have the strength to stop myself when I'm around her. When I got back into Springfield, all I could think about was running to the farmhouse, kick down the door and pull her into my arms. I wanted to smother her with kisses and feel her fears disappear because even if everyone whispered behind our backs and to our faces she would know that I would die for her, that I loved her far beyond anything that words or actions could convey.

Instead, I sat in bed and listened to her voicemail over and over again, kicking myself for not acting on my first instinct before taking care of Beacon business.

I think she knows that there are tiny hairline fractures around my heart every time she says something beautiful to me or every time she looks at me and it scares her to know that she could destroy me at any moment; I don't think she's ever had power like that over anyone before. Maybe she did with Gus, maybe she had him wrapped around her delicate fingers and that's why they married. Maybe she knows how much power and command she has over the people around her. I think she knows what she's done to me and she's feeling the same thing and that's what scares her; I'm more than willing match her with that innocent first time love that I see etched into her features every time I stop by for sandwich classes, or at work where I take way too much time to do things because I'm busy staring at her.

Studying her.

Committing every square inch of her to memory because I'm afraid at some point, she's going to want out of here, out of my life and if I'm going to suffer under the weight of something as heavy as loss, I want to know that the thing that's killing me is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I watch the way her hair falls into her eyes, the way she casually brushes it back, the way it frames her face in a perfect halo. I watch the way she blushes when I walk into a room. I watch the way she bites the inside of her cheek whenever I touch her shoulder or take her hand. I died a little bit when she sighed into my neck when I got in, her arms wrapped so tight around me, my fingers entangled in her hair. We stood there, wrapped up in each other for what felt like forever, getting lightheaded from how tight we held each other, from the deep inhalations we were taking of each other's skin. I had to let her go because I was afraid my heart would give out from too much excitement. She stood there, that radiant smile on her face, never leaving, never fading, never dimming while I stared at her, hoping to God that I wouldn't be the one that caused anything terrible to happen to her.

She was folding laundry when I got in and I wanted to grab the clothes she had already folded and make a mess of them, just so I could watch her fold them while she gave me the side eye. Instead I sat there, listening to her while she told me that she told Doris _just enough_ for her own personal comfort level, my heart banging in my chest beating out _this is going to happen this is real this is real_ over and over against my ribs. She told me how she missed me and how living with her was the best time and closest thing to a family she's ever known.

I moved closer as she said "Ever since I told you…"

"Ever since you told me what?" I press, moving closer to her, our knees touching, my eyes holding hers intently.

"That I love you."

I died.

I pulled her close to me, wanting to kiss her deeply but not wanting to scare her away and hugged her tightly, a deeply intimate sequel to the hug we exchanged moments ago.

I feel on top of the world, like nothing is going to stop me and even if the road back to the farmhouse is bumpy and full of doubt and missteps, I'm more than willing to go through all of them just to be under the same roof as her.

"I told Father Ray."

Guilt is stamped on her face and I can see her back pedaling on everything. Those little hairline cracks turn into fractures and I feel pieces of my heart falling apart in my chest, tears welling in my eyes. She tells me it's best to take it slow, "I want to do it right." All I can hear is, I'm still so scared and I don't know how to handle the way the world changes when you defy its perceived logic.

I'm sitting on my bed, trying my best not to cry myself to sleep, disappointed that I didn't bite my tongue and keep my words to myself. Two steps forward just to stumble and fall on the ground. It's not over just yet, it's not, and she just needs time that's all. I'm willing to give her the time that she needs, just as long as she keeps me around and let's me be a part of her life. I'm willing to give her anything she wants.

I'm kicking myself because I didn't say what I wanted to say, what I needed to say. I should've told her how much I love her, how much I melt whenever I'm near her and how much I just want to sit on the couch with her and love her madly.


	2. Dying To Say This To You

Dying To Say This to You

The title is from The Sounds album "Dying To Say This To You" Same deal, I don't own them, Proctor and Gamble do. Part Two of sorts to "Love Her Madly"

She was sprinting up the walkway to the front door, I heard her heels on the pavement and I was at right there as she knocked. She practically fell in when I opened the door but recovered with one of the best hugs I've ever gotten from someone who wasn't Rafe or Emma. She was flushed, embarrassed I think, because she was so eager to be back home partially for Emma and myself and I couldn't help but reflect that while she stood there, trying to be casual about the way she greeted me.

I missed her terribly, more than I missed her when she's at The Beacon in her apartment because I can see her whenever I want mostly because I work with her and entirely because I can see her whenever I want. It felt like a piece of me left with her when we said our goodbyes at the spa. I didn't let my hurt show because I knew when she came home, it would be to me. I saw her eye the laundry basket as she made her way towards the couch. I know what she's thinking she thinks going to ruin my basket just because she thinks she can get away with it. She's adorable when she gets that mischievous look in her eyes, a far cry from the usual air of power she has. I love the smile she gives me when I tell her that Emma is fine and we spoke a lot about their moving back into the farmhouse.

"Maybe we should think about moving in." she says, self assured and with that confidence that always makes me unsteady. My heart races and I think she knows that I'm panicked and that she's caught me off guard. I'd love for them to come back home, to brighten up the place and to make me feel like I'm with my family again while I wait for Rafe but…I'm not ready. I don't know what to say and I cross to the couch to pack Emma's bags to give me something to do to avoid the look of disappointment and hurt in Olivia's beautiful eyes.

She sits on the other side of the couch, keeping a safe distance from me. I watch her expression change as I tell her that "moving in is _moving in_. What if we don't work?"

"We do work." she says simply. She smashes my defenses, flimsy logic and fears. I am helpless as she ropes me in with her honesty and stares me down as she tells me about how brave and bold I've been, how life is about taking risks and how I took a huge risk when I opened the door and let her in. I know she's talking about more than just a few moments ago. I know she's talking about when I agreed to let her live here while she recovered from the transplant. I know she's talking about how we fought constantly while she was at The Beacon but we both were standing our ground, regardless of the things that we said and did. I know I took a huge step with her, letting her into my home, a home she made real for me when she bought it and when she moved in with Emma. I know she thinks I've overanalyzed the entire thing, that I'm throwing down barrier after barrier down because I just don't know what to do but I want everything to include her.

I realize that I'm blushing as she stares at me, studying me, like she's analyzing me while I'm processing her words. It dawns on me that I have no way of shooting down her reasons for why we shouldn't just do it. "I took the biggest chance of my life when I told you…"

She brightens up and slides closer to me, eyes sparkling as she leans forward catching my eyes and holding them intently. I think I'm officially pink with embarrassment. "Told me what?"

"That I love you."

"And." the corners of her mouth perk up just slightly into a coy smile, her eyes still locked on me.

"And I haven't regretted it since." I answer with my smile feeling a million miles wide. We study each other, electricity crackling between us. I hazard a glance at her lips before realizing that she was staring at mine. My heart races and I put the bag down and pull her into me, her left hand grazes my cheek and I realize that she wanted to kiss me, sending my heart goes into frenzy while she nestles into the crook of my arm. I let my hand rest on her back and I know that she can hear my heart rattling around in my chest but I don't care because I feel her heart matching mine. It scares me just a little bit but not because she's just as flustered as I am but because I fear seeing her in the hospital again. I hold her closer to me, breathing her in and blushing at the same time.

When she leaves me alone again in the house to handle some business with Jeffery I mulled over the pros and cons of her moving back in. It'd be great for Emma, perfect even because she was already so accustomed to being here for so long and a dream just to have Olivia in the house again. It'd be better if Rafe were here but that's coming in due time. I don't think I'm ready not because of Olivia but because of Rafe. He wanted Frank as his father, he was ready for the family he would be coming home to once his stay at the half-way house was over and I didn't give it to him. I had failed him again. It's not that I don't think that he wouldn't be understanding, he saw how terrified I was in church, clutching the bouquet Olivia had picked out, in the dress she bought he knew that I wasn't ready to marry a man I didn't love but I was going to marry him because he would give the us the life we should've had with Gus. I was using him. It still hurt me to see Frank because I broke his heart by following my own.

A knock pulled me out of my thoughts and I crossed towards the door, hoping it was Olivia trying to surprise me again only to find Father Ray standing in the doorway. I gulp. _Oh God._

He tries small talk and reminds me gently that I need to help out with the fundraisers I agreed to coordinate and absently promise to bring supplies from The Beacon with Olivia's permission. He brings up Frank and my mood almost immediately before I hear her voice in my head, reminding me of my bold and brave new self. I take a deep breath and mentally make the Sign of The Cross.

I tell him.

"I have feelings for someone else." I glance over to the framed photo of Emma, myself and Olivia at New Years and I watch as his head turns to follow my gaze. I'm blushing again. He does a double take, eyes wide.

"Olivia?"

I feel warmth spread across my neck at the mention of her name and the boldness of my actions. I hope that the reaction is invisible to him as I square my shoulders, prepared to deal with whatever lecture he had for me.

"Yes. Olivia."

He looks again and exhales through his nose. I think he thought I had a crush on him.

"I didn't see this coming…the feelings that I have for…"

"Olivia." he deadpans.

"All I know is that they're real."

He takes a hold of my wrist and assures me "There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling." Then he states the Church's stance on the matter and I feel my knees shake, but I'm resolute. It feels like my closest friend is attacking me for doing what they've always told me to do; follow my heart. He offers guidance through the church but doesn't exactly shun me personally; I think he's more shocked that Olivia has gotten to me and in that, we share a common reaction. I hear him and I match him scripture passage for passage and I tell him "I don't feel in my heart that what I'm doing is wrong." That's what matters to me; I know that God understands that.

"I love Olivia and I love my faith and I don't understand why I have to choose."

I won't choose.

When Olivia comes back I tell her that I told Father Ray. Then I tell her that it's not a good idea for her to move in just yet and the air is sucked out of the room. I can hear her heart skip and I can hear my own break as she nods. I assure her it's not because it's a sin or because I fall apart every time she's near me. "I want it to be done right." Her eyes fill with tears and I kick myself over and over again for doing this to her, for doing it to us and even when she's fighting back tears, she's strong and she's beautiful. She squares her jaw and gives me a nod before she leaves.

I want to tell her that she would've been proud of me for how I stood my ground with Father Ray this afternoon, even as he indirectly attacked us both. I was just as brave as she is, maybe braver because in this world I have only three things, my life, my son and my church and I was fighting for all of them. I realized that I had added something more to that list, Olivia herself and Emma. I want to tell her that I think of her constantly and I spent so much time thinking about her I was amazed I could function. I want to tell her that she's the only person who could ruin my laundry pile and I'm be fine with it just as long as she didn't mix the colors with the whites. I want to tell her that when she's doing the crossword puzzles in the paper, her left eye narrows like she's trying to see between the lines and force an extra letter in by willing the lines to move an inch or so to the right or left. I want to tell her that she's adorable in the morning when she walks around in her pjs like a zombie. She's beautiful when she makes a face. I blush when she leaves Post-It notes in my to-do pile that's legible and not the chicken scratch she leaves for everyone else. I love the way she says my name. I want to tell her that she's the most incredible person I've met and that includes when we couldn't stand to be in the same room at the same time. I want to tell her that she's the reason why I try a little harder and why I stay an optimist while you think of the worst case scenarios.

I have to find my words and my confidence and build my faith in this, in us and I know that. I know that I have to do more than just hold you closer when we hug, or hold your hand a little tighter when we're alone. I know that I have to more than just stare at you, giving you imaginary kisses all over your face but I'm scared and I don't know how to tell you what you need to know. I want to tell you that I am willing to give it all up, put it all on the line and take a chance with you, with this but I'm afraid to get hurt or disappoint you or spend so much time over thinking everything instead of just doing and feeling. All I want to do is feel you near me, close to me, to feel like no matter what, we will get through this for better or worse, good and bad. I want to know that even if this all falls apart, it was a lesson learned and we are stronger for it. I have to find my words, pick them right so that they come from the heart and match what I think and believe to best reflect me to you; I want to look the way and feel the way you see me. I want to stand on a rooftop and scream how much I love you. I struggle every day with these things and to find the words for them is nearly impossible because there's so much that I'm dying to say to you.


End file.
